Second, though this may not be helpful, you’re not alone and your situation or your  “dilemma”  is not unusual.   The devil may [...]]]> Dear Sister,
First, I want to thank you for writing — for it is in acknowledging our condition and in seeing our need that we can best affirm and apply, by the grace of God, the help or teaching we receive.

Second, though this may not be helpful, you’re not alone and your situation or your  “dilemma”  is not unusual.   The devil may attempt to tell you otherwise, but what you’ve written is common to women who both come home from the “work-force” *and* who’ve been trained otherwise.  The “trained otherwise” is the main problem — not the new daily routine of being home and not out of the home.  That will be the easy part once you accept the calling and seek to define and live it.  You will define it as you go — and you will live it as you define it.

The “it” is the high calling of being a keeper at home… the main tree of motherhood.  Incidentally, motherhood doesn’t relegate a woman to never leaving the home or never having “outside” work — there are likely seasons where one or both of these will happen — but it is my understanding that the season of child birthing, nurturing and training necessitates that mothers stay home to heed the calling the Lord has placed on her life and carry out and do these things.  Radical feminists will argue the point.  But I will continue to defend the Scriptures that call a mother to be a keeper at home, to love her husband and her children, to be discreet, sober, good, chaste, obedient to her husband — seeking all of these — that the Word of God be not blasphemed.

Psalm 113.9  He maketh the barren woman to keep house,
and to be a joyful mother of children. Praise ye the LORD.

As to the question of not knowing what to do.  Here’s an exercise that might be helpful for you.  It will take you some time, so you might print this off so you can address it when time allows.  Here is the exercise:

• List all the outcomes you desire (so far as it depends on you) for your life?
• What kind woman do you want to be remembered as being?
• As for your walk with the Lord, how do you see that worked out in your daily life?
• How can you work these attributes into your daily life?  What do you need to implement?
• As for your behaviour and character what specific qualities to you most highly value?
• As a wife?  As a mother?  As a companion?
• What sort of atmosphere do you seek as a description of your home?
• The appearance of your home?  The flow and routine of your homelife?

You may never have had the instruction to be a “godly woman” or a “keeper at home” or a “homemaker” or a “mother.”  But I think you might agree that you do have an idea what this looks like or a dream of what it might be like.  That’s what I’m asking you to consider — that’s what I’m asking you to ponder as you go through the days ahead.  Yes, you may not know what to do – exactly – today, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have any idea.  You may not know the paints, the colours, the hues, the brushes and blades used in painting a portrait, but you’ve seen the portrait or, at least, you’ve imagined it.

Yes, you may have been “instructed otherwise ” and, therefore, you need to spend some time reevaluating, rethinking, reorganizing your thoughts about motherhood and keeping a home — that’s what that “exercise” above is meant to address.  You may be mourning the loss of time — the robbing of your time and purpose as a wife and mother.  Don’t let the devil deceive you that it’s too late.  If you’re still living, it’s not too late.  Don’t ever forget that.  The devil will deceive you to believe otherwise.

That crafty devil’s playbook is very thin — he doesn’t possess many tools or ideas — so he plays them over and over and over again.  The longer you live, the more you’ll see this.

May you always be blessed.

Ezekiel 43.10-11  Thou son of man, show this house to the house of Israel that they may be ashamed of their iniquities; and let them understand the pattern. And if they are ashamed [...]]]> Throughout this past week, I’ve been steeped in thinking of patterns and pieces and things fitting together and how God creatively and masterfully gathers pieces of our lives from here and there — new and old — and fits them together according to His pattern.

Ezekiel 43.10-11  Thou son of man, show this house to the house of Israel that they may be ashamed of their iniquities; and let them understand the pattern. And if they are ashamed of all that they have done, show them the form of the house, and its pattern, and the goings out thereof, and the comings in thereof, and all its figures, and all its descriptions, and all its paintings, and all its laws; and write it in their sight that they may keep the whole form thereof and all the ordinances thereof and do them.

It’s interesting how we all tend to, at once, demand and reject patterns and forms.  I was thinking about this earlier when I was mulling over different forms and patterns I’ve used through the years for quiet time and Bible study.  Using forms, we might find ourselves feeling spiritually dry and quiet times might seem to become rote performances — then we might seek to be free from form and we may find ourselves floundering and then possibly ignoring the Word or prayer.  Seasons of these cycles repeat and we often find ourselves looking for the old ways… what was I doing, saying, thinking, reading, etc., etc., when I was daily walking with the Lord?  What gave me faith, understanding and trust?  What pattern had the Lord worked in my life?

The following is not meant to be a “form” per se, but as I read passages of Scripture and come to a portion that arrests my attention in some way or another, I have in mind any one, or many, of these questions.

These sorts of questions make the living Word the Word living in my life.  It is by faith in Jesus and through the Holy Spirit illuminating the Word of God I gain understanding.  As I wrote about yesterday: How is it that you do not understand? I must ask myself this question when my thoughts are not in line with the Word or when I question what the Lord is doing (or not doing) in my life.  I must realize that it’s not God who’s not working or present or speaking — it’s me not listening or trusting or following Him in faith — it’s me not continuing in the patter He’s given me.  And, above all that, I must remember that it’s not my faith that gives me understanding, it’s His faith working in me that gives me understanding… it’s His Word living in me that gives me understanding.Psalm 119.104  Through thy precepts I get understanding: therefore I hate every false way.

Proverbs 4.5  Get wisdom, get understanding: forget it not; neither decline from the words of my mouth.
Proverbs 4.7  Wisdom is the principal thing; therefore get wisdom: and with all thy getting get understanding.
Proverbs 16.16  How much better is it to get wisdom than gold! and to get understanding rather to be chosen than silver!

The older I get, the more I see it: the look — the longing look in a mother’s eyes when things didn’t turn out like she hoped.  It’s not necessarily disappointment or despair or even bitterness — it’s just sort of: sorrow.   There’s another look, too — it’s the hopeful look in a mother’s eyes at the mention of one of her children, a memory or an event from days gone by… it’s joy.  Joy is in her eyes.

Well, that’s what I’ve come to think motherhood’s all about:  joys and sorrows.  Motherhood is a call to sorrow; Motherhood’s a call to joy.  Truly, sorrow skips no home — but joy — joy’s not far behind, either.

Throughout these many years of motherhood, I look back and see the braided events… the joy, the sorrow — and the Lord.  I know I’ve got sorrow in my eyes — but I’ve got joy in my eyes, too.  All around me is the braid: the cords of joy and sorrow.  It’s as if He’s just been holding the whole braid together — for, were it not for Him, the joy and sorrow would just be a tangled, knotted twist — but somehow — marvelously — He’s the central strong cord that’s made it a long braid: a long braid of years — a long braid of joys and sorrows intermingled with His cord of grace and mercy lovingly held in His gracious hands.

I suppose He could’ve prevented or not allowed some of the sorrows — but I so needed them, for without them I’d not have appreciated or understood the deepness of joy.  And, I suppose He could have withheld some of the joys — but without them I wonder if I’d not have been able to accept or endure the sorrows.  Without the sorrows I’d still be going along unrepentant, unchanged, unrestored.  Without the joys I’d be weary, weak and probably feel without hope.  He could have done many things differently. He could have given or withheld.

But He didn’t.
And I’m glad.

In His great wisdom and merciful kindness, He allowed a blending of the two — and as I’ve experienced the reality that He’s the one with the cords in His loving Hands I see more and more how surely I have needed both.  But I forget that sometimes.  I wonder: how will a situation be resolved?  I fret: _________ will never be different than it is today.  I weep: how will this son or daughter make it?  I cry to Him: what will the end of all of this be?  I laugh with joy and ask Him:  how could I possibly be this blessed?  I smile and exclaim to Him: how could I be so fortunate to have the life I have or the family or the health or strength I have today or  have had all these years?   All the while all of these facets of the cords of joy and sorrow are gently (though sometimes it feels anything but gently) turning in His hands gently twisting, braiding, blending, strengthening the braid.

Sorrow’s right around the corner.
Joy’s right down the path…
I need them both.

Another year is dawning! Dear Father, let it be, In working or in waiting, Another year with Thee; Another year of leaning Upon Thy loving breast; Another year of trusting, Of quiet, happy rest;

Another year of mercies, Of faithfulness and grace; Another year of gladness In the shining of Thy face; Another year of progress, Another year of praise; Another year of proving Thy presence all the days;

Another year [...]]]> Another Year Is Dawning
Lyrics ~ Frances R. Havergal, 1836 -1879
Music ~ Samuel S. Wesley, 1810 – 1876

With love from the ♥ of [...]]]> God bless you& your thoughts and may He establish your dreams & plans as you close ♥ Chapter 2011 and open ♥ Chapter 2012.

With love from the ♥ of the home.

I posted this @ Welcome Home on Facebook… but it’s so important that I thought I’d share it here.  I’ve been posting brief year-end countdown thoughts on Facebook @ Welcome Home.  In the new year I hope to post daily home notes and verses for encouragement.

It’s interesting that the poem should come in the  mail today… as I have been thinking of several different ones who have ‘vacant chairs’ at their tables [...]]]> I’ve entitled this blog entry The Vacant Chair — a title that’s not original with me, but the title of a poem I’ll add to this post in a moment.  The poem was written by a dear saint, the husband of a precious friend who passed into heaven earlier this year.

It’s interesting that the poem should come in the  mail today… as I have been thinking of several different ones who have ‘vacant chairs’ at their tables again this year.  I think of the mothers and fathers who stand at the glass watching for the wayward son or daughter, hoping he or she will be home to occupy his or her chair at the table this year.  I think of the families who won’t have a baby to hold, a parent to care for, a friend to visit at Christmastime… more empty chairs.  I think of friends who have a vacant womb — bruised heart this Christmastime.

I think of families who will visit and look into the vacant, dim eyes of loved ones with vacant minds — long ago leaving vacant chairs.  I think of couples with vacant chairs of children they never bore or only hold in their hearts. I think of those whose choices keep them afar off — who’ll not be home again this year — vacant chairs.  I think of those whose husbands are off fighting in a war they never wanted to fight — the family tables with a vacant chair again this year.  I think of friends or family who’ve moved away and they’ll miss sitting in the chairs around a familiar table this year.  I think of mothers and dads who’ve married off a son or daughter this past year — a sweet sadness may wash over them — as they set tables with fewer chairs.  And there are innumerable other scenarios… innumerable empty chairs.  Vacant chairs will tell many stories… some, only in the heart.

The Vacant Chair was written by a loving, faithful husband whose eyes are growing dim, but whose memory is sweet and keen: for a wife who lived such a remarkable, long, full life — occupying the chair beside him for some sixty-seven years.

VACANT CHAIR

I love you dear with all my heart,
True love was ours to share,
God has called you to His Home,
I’m left with a vacant chair.

I think of things I’ve done today,
My toil and my care;
I praise the Lord you’re free from pain,
But I’m left with a vacant chair.

The day will come, I’ll join you there,
In Heaven, bright and fair,
We’ll praise the Lord, with all our heart,
And there’ll be no vacant chair!

Paul R Turnidge

God has shown Himself wonderful to me. Every day I am amazed how He directs my path. Sometimes I look through my windshield of life and wonder where I’m going, then I look in the rear view mirror and see how far I have gone,  and amazingly exclaim, “Surely the Lord has led me.”"

I often wonder how many drafts some writers attempted before the resulting letter was complete.  I say this because I attempted [...]]]> I love receiving Christmas letters each year — I read them — some, many times. I read them to the family and take the enclosed photos and hang them on our kitchen cabinet doors.  I love the letters for so many reasons — maybe for as many different reasons as the number of letters received each year.

I often wonder how many drafts some writers attempted before the resulting letter was complete.  I say this because I attempted to write our Christmas letter no less than a dozen times this year.  Each draft wordier (no surprise there!) than the previous — then I’d write a rather perfunctory letter — and it sounded like it. Then I wrote intending to add photo highlights. But then I thought of all the things I wouldn’t have space to include.  After each sort of attempt — some, far along in the process:  I think, no… no, that’s not it.  Click: Ctrl A.   Click: Delete.  Computer lid: click.   Lights out: click.

Maybe tomorrow, I’d ponder as I drifted off to sleep… maybe tomorrow… maybe tomorrow I will write in such a manner as to concisely convey,  in less than a thousand words,  the story of a year in the life of a family.  All I could see was the hand of the Lord over two extremely thankful parents in rocking chairs: observing the marvelous lives of nine very busy adult children living at home and more beyond.

And so, more treasured letters and cards have arrived… more beautiful photos are on the cabinet doors… more tears of joy have been shed for the changes and blessings and losses and accomplishments the Lord has given family and friends.  Melancholy tears of joy… and the passage of time.

The Christmas letter is finished.  It’s even been printed.  And it’s incomplete to convey all the things I wish I could’ve written, because there’s so much more the Lord has done and taught us this past year than time or space allowed.  But… I’m glad we have something to send and a photo to put with it.  I’m really grateful it mattered enough to enough of our family here to push to do what I know I’ll be glad we did.

♥